The Last Year
by rainydayB
Summary: Bella is dying of cancer. Edward is majoring oncology, but sent to Forks Hospital for work experience, and he's assigned to Bella. But his job isn't to cure her cancer. His job is to open her up. R&R please.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

Death.

Ever since I entered puberty, this five-letter word has been accompanying me. I had never given much thought to how I would die. My parents knew it, I knew it, and my friends knew it. Eventually, I would give up the fight, not because my body can't, but because I don't see the reason. Eventually, I would let it take over me, drag me under.

But death was never so bad when you've got an angel with you.

**1.**

**EPOV**

With hope, I attempted to flatten my wild hair, but it was done in vain. Sighing, I walked out of the car, and walked into the hospital, to meet my father who was waiting for me.

School work had always been something that came naturally to me. There never was any difficulty, which made everything boring. I finished high school when I was sixteen, and had just completed my oncology major. There was something about medicine that was fascinating to me. Surprisingly, I was sent to a small town hospital for work experience, unusual, considering experienced workers are always sent to bigger cities. I suspect my adoptive father Carlisle had something to do with that; my adoptive mother Esme had always wanted to keep me close.

Today was my first day at Forks Hospital. I was to pick up a folder from Carlisle, and it contained information about the person I was assigned to. I would have someone to assist me occasionally, but mostly, he or she is under my charge. I quickened my steps, excited to finally apply my knowledge to someone who's in need of it.

"Edward!" Carlisle called, approaching me with a folder in his hand.

"Hi dad," I smiled at him, hardly hiding my excitement.

"Can you come with me for a second?" he asked. "There's something I need to discuss with you."

"Of course." I followed him to his office.

"Take a seat Edward," he said. "Now, I want to talk to you about who you're assigned to. You were originally assigned to Nicole Richard, but there's another girl, who might be quite challenging, but I believe you can do it. And her father is desperate."

I smiled; I like challenges. I voiced my thoughts.

"I know you do Edward," he said, smiling. "But you really have to listen to this one. I know your major is oncology, but I want you to deal with her, mentally."

"So you want me to be the shrink?" I wasn't quite sure where he was heading with this.

"Yes, she's seen about all the therapists in the area, starting from when she was diagnosed, and that was when she was twelve. She's seventeen now."

I felt slightly panicked. "But Carlisle, I didn't major in Psychology."

"Oh don't give me that, I've seen you how you are with people. And," he added "I don't think she needs a medically trained therapist. And you must know that if you're choosing this girl, you're choosing the harder option." He looked at me. "But I have faith in you son; I know you can do it."

I sighed. On one hand, it would be more practical for me to choose the first girl, but it wouldn't be as challenging. "I'll… be the shrink."

Carlisle's smile was full of encouragement. "Thanks son, here," he handed me the folder he was holding "her name is Bella. She's dying of breast and lung cancer."

I felt completely sorry for this girl. "Did it spread?" I asked.

He nodded sadly. "Yes, it was breast cancer first, than it spread to the lungs. Uncommon, but a lot of things just happen to this poor girl. If you look at her record, you can see that she's very clumsy." He smiled fondly.

"And you grew attached to her." I guessed. It wasn't a hard assumption to make; it was written all over my father's face.

"Yes, Bella was a lovely girl. She's so kind, and caring. And I'm sure she still is, deep down inside. This is where you come in, son. She has completely closed up to everyone, including her father. She lived with her mother for ten years in Phoenix, then the last five here. Her mother moved with her to Phoenix when she was two, but she remained married to Bella's father."

"What caused the move?" I inquired.

"Work purposes. Bella's mother died five years ago, also to breast cancer. Her mother's job was near a radio wave station. We think this is what caused their cancers. Bella has about a year left, and we don't think her chances of surviving are too big. But her father would like her to _leave_ happily."

Her folder was full of notes made by previous therapists, most of it noting that they've ended in tantrums made by this Bella. I swallowed, suddenly uncharacteristically nervous. "Dad," I said, throat tight, "what if I stuff this up?"

He paused. "The best advice I can give you is this, don't be her doctor. Be her friend, and keep it that way. And be patient." And he left me to muse over his words.

**AN:** Let me know if I should continue, ok? This story practically wrote itself.

**10 reviews = more**.


	2. Chapter 2

**2. **

**EPOV**

Effortlessly, I found room 106. Growing up in Forks with Carlisle as my father made me familiar with all of Forks Hospital. However, I hesitated at the door, suddenly uncertain of my decision. But once I was sure, I've never backed out on a decision, and I wasn't going to start now. I took a deep breath, and then I opened the door and walked in as confidently as I could.

The room looked like any hospital room would, except there was only one bed. A girl with pale skin and short brown hair was lying on it. I assumed that this was the famous Bella. She had big brown eyes, pink pouty lips, and a heart shaped face. Surprisingly, despite her situation, her expression was peaceful, calm.

I took in another lung full of air. "Hi," I said. She turned around, and her expression turned into anger.

"If you're another shrink who wants to make me to "open up"," she quoted, "then you may as well get out now. I have nothing to say to any of you."

Remembering Carlisle's words, I laughed gently, controlling my temper. "Oh, but I'm not a shrink," not legally, "I majored in oncology."

Her expression became gentle. "Oh," she said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting patients has always been a favorite past time." I told her.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, because we're _so_ interesting." I didn't miss her sarcasm.

"No really, they are. My father is a doctor, and he had often brought me here when I was younger. I loved visiting patients, helping the nurses out. Some of them have really interesting stories to tell."

Her expression turned blank. "Okay, say that I believe you. Why me? Why talk to me when I've been nothing but rude to you? Obviously, this is another trick to get me talking, so get out." Was I imagining the hint of desperation in her tone?

I pursed my lips; I needed to think up another scheme, and fast. Suddenly another idea hit me, I thought it over quickly, and was surprised that it could actually work. I walked closer, until I was right next to her bed. "Fine, you caught me. I was sent here, because your father is so worried about you. Even though you've driven off all the therapists he could find. That is _so_ wrong of him, what a terrible father he is. Forgive me for wasting your time, good day." I stormed out of the room, and went straight to Carlisle's office.

He was in there already. "How did it go?" he asked.

"I've got an idea," I told him, avoiding his question. "I'll come back tomorrow." I took Bella's folder as I left; I was going to read over her files carefully tonight.

**BPOV**

I stared blankly at the ceiling, playing my favorite game. I called it NOT, standing for no-oh-thinking. Because when I don't think, I'm not disturbed by information that I never wanted to think about. When I don't think, I won't be hurt.

"Hi," a quiet voice said, announcing that I was no longer the only one in the room. I turned, looking at the new occupier.

He was beautiful. He had bronze colored hair, and it was messy, but in a casual disarray manner. He had eyes like green orbs, and his features were perfect. Immediately I turned my features into a mask of anger; I needed to protect this beautiful stranger

"If you're another shrink who wants to make me "open up" then you may as well get out now. I have nothing to say to any of you." I said my voice angry.

He laughed gently; it was a sound of music. "Oh, but I'm not a shrink," he said. "I majored in oncology."

It was hard to stay mad at him, even if I was pretending. "Oh, what are you doing here?"

"Visiting patients has always been a favorite past time."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, because we're _so_ interesting."

"No really, they are." He said earnestly. "My father is a doctor, and he had often brought me here when I was younger. I loved visiting patients, helping the nurses out. Some of them have really interesting stories to tell."

I could feel my expression turning blank, an automatic response whenever I was getting desperate. "Ok, say that I believe you. Why me? Why talk to me when I've been nothing but rude to you? Obviously, this is another trick to get me talking, so get out." I closed my eyes, hoping he would just leave; I wasn't sure how much longer I could remain "angry".

I could hear him breathing, then when he spoke again, he was much closer. "Fine, you caught me." He said angrily. "I was sent here, because your father is so worried about you. Even though you've driven off all the therapists he could find, he's still going through the troubles of finding you a new one. He just wants you to be happy until the end. That is _so_ wrong of him, what a terrible father he is. Forgive me for wasting your time, good day." He stormed out of the room.

I sighed, rubbing my temper, trying to rub out the guilt. Ever since I was diagnosed, my father had been taking me to shrinks. "You need to sort out your problems honey," he told me. And when I was too sick to see them, Charlie brought them to see me.

But he just doesn't understand, even though I've talked to him about it numerous times. I don't need this. Why do I want to make friends, so they'd grieve over me when I die? Cause more pain? Wasn't one person enough? It wasn't something I needed, and definitely no shrinks, because I don't have a problem.

I sighed; for some reason, that beautiful stranger's words had touched me more than I liked to admit. I was used to people storming out of my room, shaking their heads. But this guy…

"Bella," Charlie walked into the room.

I didn't answer as I stared at him blankly. Even though it's near impossible, I needed to cut some ties with Charlie.

"The station let me go early, look, Bella-"

I knew what he was about to say. Unwillingly, I spoke. "No, dad, I don't need a therapist." I told him tiredly.

Charlie sighed. He seated himself on the chair next to me, dropping his head into his hands. When he spoke again, he looked old, like he had aged in the short few minutes. "Bella, please. _Please_ do this, if not for yourself, for me." His eyes fogged up. "Look, I'm not too sure how much longer I have before I loose you. Since you won't do it for yourself, for my sake then, at least leave your old man knowing that he did the best he could."

I had to say something; I couldn't leave him like this, all the unnecessary guilt. "You are doing the best you could. You're the world's best dad," I said to him, looking down. I hated seeing Charlie in tears. He never cried when I was younger, but lately, I discovered him in tears more and more often.

"Not enough," he mumbled. "I didn't get you to agree. Bells," he looked at me, pain all over his eyes. "Please. Just one chance. You haven't given any of those therapists a go. Please. All I'm asking is one chance."

I sighed heavily. I hated when Charlie used the guilt card, because it almost always worked on me. I nodded, looking away. Suddenly, I was exhausted.

"Thanks Bells," he said as he kissed me on the forehead.

**AN**: Hey, thanks so much for all the reviews.

I'm definitely continuing with this idea, but due to a recent eye infection from contact lenses, I won't be able to update for a week or two. So sorry about that.

**Please review**; I always feel better by reading them.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I walked into the hospital, and noticeably the excitement I had felt the previous day was gone. Determination had taken its place, and I knew I had to do this well.

"Edward!" Carlisle said, standing next to the reception. A strong sense of déjà vu hit me.

"Dad."

He smiled at me; it was a proud smile. "I don't know what you said to Bella yesterday, but as soon as I walked into the hospital, Charlie – her father – rang me and told me that Bella agreed to accept treatments! I'm so proud of you, son. I knew you could do it."

Carlisle rarely expressed his feelings, so I grinned in response. But I didn't feel very proud. Guilt tripping anyone – especially a dying woman – into doing something, no matter how noble the cause, it didn't feel right. "Thanks Dad, I'll do my best to help her."

"I have no doubt in that, son. She's waiting for you. You know the room, I'll take that." He took my bag.

"Wait," I said quickly. "I need to get something first." I took out a pen and a notebook.

"I suppose I should tell you, good luck, but I don't think you'll need it now." He chuckled as he walked away, shaking his head. How wrong he was.

"Take a deep breath Edward, you can do this," I told myself. "Just remember your game plan."

Following my own advice, I walked quickly into the room and tried to smile calmly. Instead of lying on her bed, tubes attached, she sat on a chair near the huge window, staring out blankly. The window was open, and breeze gently caressed her hair. She didn't seem to hear my entrance. I cleared my throat, and waited by the door. I didn't want any rash movements to scare her; she seemed so fragile. "Hi."

It was a wasted effort. She jumped, looking frightened, but calmed once she realized it was me. "Oh, hi." She said awkwardly, her voice waspy.

Neither of us knew what to say. What do you say to someone whom you've just met yesterday, and yelled at them before you knew their name?

_Name_, I thought. That seemed like a good place to start. "I'm Edward, Edward Cullen. You're Bella?"

"Yes." She paused. "Take a seat," she gestured towards the chairs around her. I walked over and seated myself in the chair opposite her.

She didn't seem to know how to do, so I started talking, hoping I seem like I know what I'm doing. "Let me tell you a bit about myself. I'm turning twenty this year, and I like to play piano in my spare time. Carlisle," a look of recognition flashed in her eyes "is my adopted dad."

"And you love him." She stated.

"Yes." I smiled. "I couldn't imagine two better people." I paused, waiting for her response. She didn't seem happy with the topic. Immediately, I remembered what I learnt from reading her files; never talk about family until she was willing and although she had agreed to take treatments, she could change her mind. "Well, I also like reading and writing." I continued quickly. "And if I didn't choose to study medicine or music, I'm sure I would have become a writer. What about you? Do you have any hobbies?"

She hesitated. "I used to dance." She said slowly, as though she thought very hard about every word she spoke.

"That's nice. What an elegant hobby," I told her. I could picture her, wearing a tutu dancing elegantly.

She smiled a mischievous grin. "Yes, well, I wouldn't call it a hobby though. It's more like… fun. Though I suppose you do find fun in hobbies," she blushed, laughing – a weak laugh, but a laugh none the less. At that moment, it was hard to believe she was very sick. She looked healthy… she looked beautiful. "I'm not a very coordinated person. I trip too easily for my liking. But it was a lot of fun, watching the teachers trying to be patient with me-" she broke off, breaking into a coughing fit.

"Are you alright?" I was on my feet, walking towards the door; she needed a certified doctor to help her.

"No, please!" She broke into another fit. I stood at the door, not sure what to do. "Please don't, don't tell anyone."

Dilemma; one hand, as an intern, I should know better than to listen to the patient, especially one whose terminally ill. But in the other hand, I was her therapist, and I didn't want to undo the work I just did.

"Please, I'm fine." She wheezed, looking tired. Concerned, I wondered how I was going to bring up the topic of her dislike of doctors. Sighing, I sat next to her on the sofa, and patted her black gently. Suddenly, she broke into tears. Cautiously, I wrapped one arm around her and was relived when she buried her head into my shoulders. I was never comfortable with weepy women, but this girl had been through a lot and from the sound of things, she had been bottling it up. That can't be good for anyone.

She cried for a very long time.

AN:

(Meekly pokes head out) Hi all (dodges tomatoes). I am sorry, this doesn't mean I am back. However, I found this on my computer, and I thought, hmm, why not share? I haven't edited it at all, so please feel free point out my mistreatment of grammar.

Like I've said on my profile, people are welcome to take over my stories, provided you let me know. Well, till next time. 3


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